Music Video

Black Moon - Who Got Da Props?
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Credits

PERFORMING ARTISTS
Black Moon
Black Moon
Performer
Smif-N-Wessun
Smif-N-Wessun
Performer

Lyrics

Put up, what up, bo bo bo Suckers want to flow But they got no show So I'm a grab the mic Flip a script and leave you stunned Buckshot's the one That gets the job done Mic check, I get Paid to wreck your set Get ready to jet Cause I'm a threat to your fret No holds barred And complete move fakers Best to be the backup Watch your girl, I might take her If she's a crab I'm a diss her and slide If she try to riff I got my Smith on my side Word to God Here I come, so make way Rugged and rough Killing your set every day Microphone check One, two, here we go And I'm a let you know Who got the flow Spitting my verbs like An automatic weapon Suckers keep stepping Cause I'm a let you know [CHORUS] Who got the props Who got the props 5ft, Evil Dee, and Buckshot [Repeat CHORUS 3x] One Mississippi, two Mississippi Sucker tried to diss me Ao I played him like A hippie from the 60's But I'm a get paid from the 90's Quick to play you Little Rascals out like Stymie Kicking flavor With my Life Saver techniques Guaranteed to move feets And I go on for weeks Maybe years if my peers Give me ears to fill Lick off a shot and Act ill, parlay and chill See I paid my dues Now you can't tell me nothing This is dedicated to the Ones who kept fronting The ones who tried to Diss and play high, oh, no Just cause you had low See now I got dough And I'm paid out my rectum Meaning my backbone Grab the mic, flip a Mad script to your dome Suckers, I kick 'em like tae kwon do Yes and low, from head To toe to let you know [Repeat CHORUS 4x] I'm the rugged operator Like Arnold Schwarzenegger Buckshot quick to play Your nigga like Sega Smooth trigger-happy snappy Keep my hair nappy When I swinging Ep girls call me big pappy I used to play a game Called ring around the rosey But now I play the mic That's why the whole world knows me I'm sort of like a Chevy Heavy when I bumrush You'd better bring Your whole damn crew or Get your head crushed, sucker Cause I'm a set it off with one shot One trigger, one nigga Enough heads drop Don't even try to Play me out cause static Buckshot Shorty He sounds like an automatic Rip the set, my friend's mad tight Cause I rocks the mic And keeps the crowd hype Straight from bumrush I crush and cause chaos, yo And I'm a let you know [Repeat CHORUS] One, two, melody shows And before I flip a script You know I must keep you dozing Into the stage of the Buckshot Shorty Son pass the boom, keep the top on the 40 Never ever ever get played, kill that Bust a mad cap in your back Cause I'm all that Straight from Crooklyn Better known as Brooklyn Elude the hook and Your whole beat's tooken Must take charge Bomb guard, I'm the man Bust my plan, it feeds back on my fam Once I cruise, pay dues, I never lose When I break on fools Wake up, you don't snooze Bust a move I get smooth like Roadie Kick it like the Four Horsemen Yeah, you know me Booming like a speaker With my hundred dollar sneakers Baggy black jeans Knapsack and my beeper Keep a fresh cut Never see me with a busted fro And I'm a let you know [Repeat CHORUS 4x]
Writer(s): Kenyatta Blake, Walter Dewgarde, Ewart Dewgarde, K Reid Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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